


Day One: Rescue

by Authoranna



Series: Comfortember 2020 [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Canon Typical Violence, Comfortember 2020, F/M, i can't write action worth a darn but i'm good at soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27372343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Authoranna/pseuds/Authoranna
Summary: Lieutenant Charlotte Watson is on an away team investigating what's supposed to be an abandoned alien vessel. Abandoned isn't always empty for long, though. Things never go the way they're planned, and she needs rescued.After the rescue there is some comfort from her boyfriend.I was setting this towards the very beginning of season one, in that month and a half between Fight or Flight and The Andorian Incident when things were still very new and Strange New World, Unexpected, and Terra Nova all took place.
Relationships: Malcolm Reed/OFC
Series: Comfortember 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1999417
Collections: Comfortember 2020





	Day One: Rescue

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Comfortember! This month I'll be doing snippets of the relationship between my OC Lt. Charlotte Watson and everyone's favorite British armoury officer. I first introduced Charlotte in my drabble "Voces Simul". That's not required reading for this, but I'd appreciate the read if you want some Malcolm needing comfort.

Charlotte ducked down behind an arch, narrowly avoiding the alien’s shot. She couldn’t remember what species he was from, as that wasn’t her concern. What was her concern, however, was keeping her crewmates and herself safe.

“This ship was supposed to be abandoned!” She yelled, standing up quickly to fire a shot back. She knew the opponent couldn’t understand her, but she hoped she at least sounded intimidating.

“Apparently our sensors need some fine-tuning,” Rostov answered, returning fire as well.

After a couple more volleys, Charlotte saw an opening. “We can rig the doors to the engine room closed, buy us some time. Cover me while I head for the panel.” She darted out from behind the arch then, firing blindly as she made her way to the wiring. She slammed her phaser against the panel, breaking the seal and revealing the circuitry underneath. Scant seconds later, the doors hissed closed and the shots stopped.

The lieutenant pulled out her communicator then, flicking it open with one hand. “Watson to Enterprise. Lieutenant Watson to Enterprise, do you read me?” No response, so another hail. “Watson to Enterprise, come in, Enterprise.” She brushed aside her hair that had come lose from her braid, taking a deep breath before opening her mouth for one lat hail. Then, a voice came through static.

“The alien ship is interfering with our communicators, Lieutenant; we’ve been trying to hail you. Another ship has joined us; they’re not answering our hails. Have you seen them onboard the other ship?” Captain Jonathan Archer asked.

“Yes, Rostov and I are pinned down in the engine room. I’m not sure where Ensigns Sato and White are, but they were supposed to be on the bridge. What the hell is going on, Captain?” Charlotte answered, hissing as the doors began to creep open.

“If I knew I’d tell you. See if you can hail Hoshi; she might be able to figure out why the aliens are here.”

Charlotte groaned as she closed the communicator, not bothering to acknowledge the order. She’d do it, but she wasn’t any closer to solving the problem than she was before the hail.

“I got it!” Rostov shouted then as the lights cut out. “I found what was causing the interference; should be able to hail the rest of the away team and _Enterprise_ without problem.”

Ten minutes later, Ensign Hoshi Sato had decoded the aliens’ language and expressed the humans’ regrets at being on the ship. The aliens weren’t understanding of the _Enterprise_ being at the wrong place at the wrong time, however, and continued their attempt to retake the ship.

“We can’t keep this up, _Enterprise_!” Charlotte yelled at her comm, which remained open on the console as she continued working on deciphering the schematics.

“Just get the engines off line, Watson, we have an idea,” Lieutenant Malcolm Reed answered from _Enterprise_ ’s bridge.

“I didn’t exactly study Martian engineering codes at the Academy, Malcolm,” she grumbled, hitting another button. “I can’t even read this damn display; we never should have split up.”

A minute later, the engine went silent and began growing cold. “Okay, what’s your idea?” She asked the communicator. Silence answered her, not even the static from earlier audible on the device. Then, “get away from the engine core; we can’t get a good read on you,” Reed answered.

“A read? What do you need a read for? What’s happening?” Watson watched as Rostov vanished, disassembling before her eyes in a beam of silver. “Rostov’s gone. What the hell is happening?”

Charlotte moved away from the engine core as instructed, phase pistol pointed at the door that was letting out grating sounds as the aliens yelled and talked on the other side.

“ _Enterprise_ , what’s your plan?!”

The doors were finally pushed open, beams of light shining in from the alien’s emergency light sources. She was blinded by one beam, then everything went dark.

She awoke to another light blinding her, her back pressed to a bulkhead and her head pounding. The aliens from earlier were there, working on the engine core to get it running again. She couldn’t understand them, though the weapon pointed directly at her sent the very clear message that she was a hostage.

One alien went to a panel on the wall after it beeped, and seemed to be reading a message before palming the panel off rather forcefully. Her communicator sounded beside her, and she reached for it a second before the alien guarding her did. She flipped it open quickly, shielding it with her body.

“How many are in the room with you?” Captain Archer asked quickly.

“Three. I-,” she was cut off by a kick aimed at her gut, and she turned over to try to shield her organs and the communicator. Another kick to her back sent a stabbing pain through her side after she heard something crack.

The sound of muted phaser fire filled her ears then, and she tried to roll over to see what was happening. The engine room was still occupied only by the three aliens, but the door slid open a moment later, Lieutenant Reed on the other side.

He fired blindly into the room as soon as the door was open wide enough to allow a beam through, then ducked down to avoid the return volley. A second armoury crewmember followed behind, taking out one of the aliens. Reed quickly dispatched the other one, leaving only the one who was guarding Charlotte.

They pulled Charlotte to her feet, pushing the barrel of the weapon into her neck. They yelled something, the meaning clear: “don’t come any closer or I’ll kill her.”

Charlotte watched as both Reed and the other crewmember continued pointing their pistols at the alien, a stale-mate because of her.

“Reed, this was a terrible idea. You should’ve left me behind!” Charlotte yelled, struggling against the alien’s hold.

“The captain wouldn’t hear of it,” the Brit replied. “I said we weren’t too far out of space dock we couldn’t get another one of you Yanks.”

Charlotte lashed out then, striking at the junction of the alien’s legs and hoping they were vulnerable there as humans were. Though it wasn’t as effective as hoped, the brief distraction caused them to drop their weapon from her neck for a split second. Reed and the other crewmember took that opportunity to stun the alien into submission.

Charlotte collapsed when the alien went down, gagging and retching as the adrenaline finally stopped flowing through her.

“If you put in your report I puked soon as the action ended I’m going to murder you, Reed,” she grumbled once she caught her breath.

The armoury officer said nothing, helping her to her feet. He led her out into the corridor, then opened his communicator.

“Situation resolved, Captain. Three to return to the _Enterprise_.”

“Where’s the docking bay? We taking one of their shuttles?” Charlotte asked, leaning against the wall.

“You’re about to join the elite ranks of those who have had their molecules compressed and sent via data stream, Lieutenant Watson,” Reed answered. “Ladies first.”

She nodded silently, closing her eyes as she stood up straight. She felt a tingling take over her body then, a feeling of weightlessness replacing it after a second.

Doctor Phlox cleared his throat then, and she opened her eyes. “Let’s get you down to sick bay,” the Denobulan said.

Charlotte Watson slid off the biobed, Doctor Phlox having given her a clean bill of health and orders for bedrest for at least two days due to the concussion. She glanced at the clock on the wall, then walked into the corridor and to the turbolift. It wasn’t a route she was used to, but she’d get to her destination one way or another.

She thumbed at the call button at the door a few minutes later, knowing the occupant was inside and asleep. She waited a moment, then tried again.

The door slid open, throwing her off balance as she had been holding it instead of the wall. She nearly fell into the room, Malcolm catching her before she face planted. She regained her balance, stepping across the threshold slowly. The door closed, and still she stood there silently. After another moment, she reached out for his hand.

“Malcolm, I --,” she started. She couldn’t finish the thought, her throat closing around the words.

“Charlie, I was afraid I was going to lose you,” Malcolm whispered, taking her into his arms. “I thought I was going to have to listen to you die.” His voice barely cracked on the last word, revealing his great attempt to hide the emotion.

Charlotte started to sob then, her tears wetting the shoulder of Malcolm’s regulation blue tank top -- vest as he so wrongly claimed it was called. The two stayed like that for several minutes, Charlotte’s breathing eventually evening out.

“Can we lay down, please?” She walked over to the bunk, hand still holding the other lieutenant’s, and collapsed onto the mattress. Her feet hung over the side, her head not quite at the center of the pillow.

Malcolm bent to pull her boots off, pulling the blankets up around her before crawling into the bed himself. He tucked her head under his chin.

"We didn't see any bio-signs on sensors. It was supposed to be abandoned. We were just checking out the ship, like we've done before," Charlotte whispered. “We never saw bio-signs.” She pulled him tighter, almost painfully close. The officer simply grunted and adjusted the sheets around them.

"Things never are as easy as we think. When does anything go according to plan on this ship? Those aliens came from the other ship we couldn't hail, the one that came after the away team was already on the ship. There weren't bio-signs on the ship; you didn’t do anything wrong." He stroked her hair, trying not to disturb the braid she had put in it after her shower in the sick bay.

“I was leading the team, though. I was in charge of keeping everyone safe, and I ended up a hostage.” Her voice broke again, new tears welling.

“You did what you could, you did the next right thing, from what Rostov and everyone else said. No one was hurt more than you were.”

“I’m sorry. I know it was a tough spot for you, deciding what was best for the ship and for me. I meant what I said though, about leaving me behind,” she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Never. You’re not just my love, you’re a bloody good engineer. You were picked for this crew as much as Hoshi or Commander Tucker were. The best interests of the ship include you, Charlie,” he laughed, tugging gently at her braid as any ornery school boy would.

“Thanks for the rescue, then, Lieutenant,” she yawned.

“Hush. I know Doctor Phlox prescribed lots of sleep, and I have alpha shift in the morning.”

“You know I can’t sleep here; someone will see me leave in the morning.” She attempted to untangle herself from him, but her limbs felt too heavy and he wasn’t letting her go easy.

“Then don’t leave in the morning. Your bunkmate will be none the wiser that you were here; they’ll think you just stayed in sick bay. Just go to sleep, Charlotte. Don’t make me order you.”

“You wouldn’t do that; I outrank you.”

“No you don’t; we’re both lieutenants and technically I outrank you since I’m a bridge officer now.”

“I hate when you remind me of that,” she groaned. “Good night, Malcolm.”

“Good night, Watson.”


End file.
